The Plan (51 page)

All of it. Over.

In the literal last beat of one very selfless, loving—and loved—heart.

“For years, I've spoken of how, though I never received the miracle I was looking for—specifically two legs and a spare arm—I knew there was still a purpose for my life.”

Callum looked out to the crowd in front of him—a crowd of thousands—all in this auditorium to hear a message about hope. He prayed he was still capable of providing that.

“What I may not have mentioned, though, was that I did, in fact, receive a miracle.” His voice was loud and clear. Firm and truthful. He spoke from his heart.

“No, it wasn't the one I'd spent my whole childhood praying for. As you can see, I'm still missing my limbs. But it was one that meant more to me than fingers or toes ever could.

“Her name was Claire.”

The sound of Claire's name on his lips triggered the tears in his eyes. Even now, he couldn't say her name without feeling the familiar sting behind his eyelids. He wondered if that would ever go away. If the day would come, for him, too, when the thought of her brought a smile to his lips before it brought a tear to his eye.

“I've met millions of people in my years traveling the world,” Callum continued. “I'm thankful to say most of them have been able to, eventually, move past my disability to see and get to know the real ‘me'—not the me who's in this chair, but the me I am inside. With Claire, though, she was the first person I ever met who didn't see the disability first. She saw just
me.”

Callum smiled at the memory. A sweet one in the midst of great sadness.

“And, because I'm not a stupid man, I recognized the rarity of that and jumped at it—metaphorically speaking, of course.”

The crowd laughed as Callum knew they would.

“I asked Claire to be my wife and, to my amazement, she agreed.”

The crowd oohed and aahed. Callum knew many of them knew what was coming, but some of them would not.

“I've claimed, over the years, to understand what the deepest pain felt like, because I'd been born like this, different. I have to apologize, now, though, to many of you out there. I thought I knew excruciating pain. I spoke to you as if I understood your pain, but what I felt before was only a scratch. I didn't understand the depth of true pain.”

Callum took a deep breath, forcing back the tears.

“Until I lost Claire.”

He choked back the sob. Those words were still so new to him, so raw. Saying them aloud brought a whole new sense of emotion. He reached down to the table beneath him and lifted the glass of water Mitch had left there, to his lips.

After his sip, he gently placed the glass back down again.

“Because I would give anything—my one arm, my nose, my lips—all of it to have her here with me. For the chance to have one more day with her, I'd give everything I had left.

“I thought having limbs was so important until I lost my heart. And what I learned when I lost that was what matters most are the people in your life and how you love them. How you value every single second you get, never knowing if it might be your last.”

Callum looked off to the side of the stage and nodded to Alison. She nodded and took her cue to walk toward him, carrying six-month-old Maggie in her arms.

The baby reached out for Callum when she saw him and Callum took her in his arm, as Alison walked off stage again.

“I would like to introduce you to Margaret Claire—my little Maggie. She's the best bits of me and her mam, all rolled into one.”

This time the crowd oohed and ahhed louder and longer, and Callum smiled at their obvious delight in his little girl.

“And I'm happy to say, she has all of the parts!”

The crowd burst into spontaneous applause as Callum beamed.

“I will raise her, loving her and doting on her, just like Claire would've done.” Callum adjusted Maggie against him as she wiggled. Even now, he was still getting used to holding on to a squirming baby when he had only one arm with which to do so. Taking care of her, with his limitations, was definitely proving to be a challenge, but it was one he relished and would never, ever give up. As Claire had reassured him, he had more than enough people around him—ones who loved him and Maggie and had loved Claire with all their hearts—willing to help.

“I've spent my whole life, years and years and years—because I'm getting up there, you know.” Callum winked at the crowd as Maggie put her chubby little hands on Callum's face and began to explore every inch of it. He smiled at her and kissed her nose. “Telling people that there was a plan for their lives. I didn't just say it. I believed it. That is, until something went drastically wrong in my own life and I needed Claire to remind me that the plan we have for ourselves may not be the plan God has in store for us.

“I may not always like every component of the greater plan. Though I love Maggie, I would've much preferred it if Claire was here with us today. Just like I would've preferred if, perhaps, I could have an extra limb or two or three—but then, if I had a few extra limbs, I also wouldn't be able to do this for a living. See? Sometimes the parts of the plan we hate the most are the ones that are most essential.”

Maggie began to twist her body, trying to break free, and Callum held on a bit tighter. He made a funny face at her and she smiled back at him, distracted for the moment.

“I can't say to you I understand the plan here. I can't say I understand why I lost my Claire. But, I do know I've reached a point in my life, thanks to Claire and my little girl, where I'm willing to do more than just say there's a greater plan for my life, but also truly trust there is. That's what I'm going to hold on to.

“And, I beg and beseech all of you, no matter what your struggles, you come alongside me, and you hold on to that truth, too.”

As the crowd stood and began to applaud, Maggie picked up her chubby hands and began to clap along with them.

Callum laughed as he looked at the crowd and then back at Maggie.

She looked just like Claire. Beautiful. Innocent. Pure.

She was a miracle, just like her mam.

He would never forget that—no matter what dark days lay ahead.

Claire had begged him to love Maggie, to take care of her, to tell her, over and over again, how much she'd been loved by her mother.

He would do that, every day for the rest of his life. He'd never forget the gift Claire had given him and the sacrifice she'd made.

He'd make sure Maggie knew all about it and Claire and the love they'd shared.

He still wasn't sure how he was going to do it, raise Maggie all on his own. But he would. And, he'd continue to ask for help, just as Claire had told him to do. He wouldn't let his pride get in the way of making Claire proud.

He and Maggie would make it.

Together.

He knew nothing would make Claire happier.

And he wanted nothing more than to do just that.

Thirty-Five Years Later

“Hey, Sergeant Rodriguez. All ready for the big day?”

The man sitting on the treatment table was young. Too young, in Maggie's opinion, to be dealing with such weighty issues. But then, weren't all of the patients she worked with too young, even if they were in their sixties?

“Okay, then,” Maggie said. “Why don't you stand and let's see how much weight you can put on that foot?”

The young man stood, gingerly, as if taking his very first step, which he was. His first step since the IED had detonated in front of his vehicle.

His first step on
this foot.

He reached for the parallel bars in front of him, which were set at hip height, and held on as if gripping for dear life. His knuckles whitened.

“Relax, Sergeant Rodriguez,” Maggie said easily. “It's going to be fine. I promise.”

The man took a deep breath and hoisted himself from the table, all his weight on his left foot.

He was tall. Maggie had forgotten his records had said he was six feet three. He'd nearly always been in a sitting position when they'd spent time together.

“Great, now why don't you try to put some weight on the other foot?”

The man grimaced, but Maggie didn't think it was from pain as
much as from fear. How would it feel? Would it hurt him? Would the foot hold? Would it feel like, well…
a foot?

Only he could tell her. He and the others in her study.

The man, who in every aspect of his being was a soldier, leaned into his right foot.

“Here goes nothing,” he said as he released his weight.

Maggie held her breath.

“How is it?” his young wife—really not more than a girl—asked eagerly. “How does it feel?”

Maggie wasn't sure what came first, the man's grin or his tears.

“It feels amazing,” he said, nearly gasping. “It feels like
my foot.”

The girl started to sob as she rushed to hug him. The man didn't let go of the bars, still uneasy in the standing position, but put his head down to hers as she cried.

Maggie turned to the doctor next to her and smiled.

“Are those tears in your eyes, Dr. Lewis?” Maggie asked.

“Nope. Are those tears in your eyes, Dr. Fitzgerald?” he asked her.

“Of course not,” Maggie said. “I'm a professional.”

“Me, too,” Dr. Lewis said, nodding.

Maggie sometimes wondered if certain aspects of her chosen career would ever get old. Certainly the paperwork would. Definitely the bureaucracy. Without a doubt, the hoops she had to go through to raise enough funding would someday do her in.

But this part?
She knew, with all her being,
this part
would never, ever get old.

It would be as fresh and exciting and exhilarating each and every time.

Because, each and every time, the person standing across from her would be experiencing their miracle for the very first time.

Maggie didn't hear the team of residents come up behind her until one of them spoke.

“Is that a new type of prosthetic?” a young doctor asked Maggie.

“No,” Maggie said, watching Sergeant Rodriguez carefully. She'd need to examine him. They'd be spending most of the day together as she asked him a thousand questions and did a hundred more tests. She knew he wouldn't mind. Neither would his family, who were all—his parents, his brothers, his two little children—now running into the room.

This was the happiest day of their life, better than any wedding day.

And they all knew it.

“I'm sorry,” she said, turning back to the resident. She'd gotten distracted by the scene of joy taking place right in front of her. “Sergeant Rodriguez came to us two years ago, having lost his right foot in combat.”

“Were you able to reattach it?” another resident asked.

“No,” Maggie said. “That limb was never recovered. And, even if it had been, I'm fairly certain it would've been too damaged to reattach.”

“Then what did you do for him?” a third resident asked. Clearly, they were all confused.

“We enrolled Sergeant Rodriguez in a clinical study we've been conducting for the past six years.”

She turned to look at the group, purposely making eye contact with each one of them. She was about to blow their minds.

“We helped him grow a new foot.”

“What?!” The cry escaped from each resident's mouth at the same, precise moment with the exact high pitch.

Maggie chuckled, as did Dr. Lewis next to her.
The reactions from people?
That part would
definitely
never get old.

“Dr. Lewis is going to take all of you into a conference room and explain the entire study in great detail. But, to give you a quick understanding, so you can comprehend what you're seeing as you look
at Sergeant Rodriguez, we discovered a human gene which is active early in a human's life, but remains silent in mature tissue. It can reprogram human non-reproductive cells, rewinding them back to an embryonic-like state. We realized, when this gene is reactivated, it can enhance the healing power, and grow new tissue.”

“Dr. Fitzgerald keeps using the pronoun ‘we,' but that is
not
accurate,” Dr. Lewis interrupted.

“Yes. It
is
accurate,” Maggie said.

“No, it's not,” Dr. Lewis said. “On top of being a genius, she's obsessively modest. It's true we are all part of a team, but it is led by Dr. Fitzgerald and she is the genius behind our findings.”

Maggie waved off her colleague and friend as if she were swatting away a fly.

“The point is,” she said, smiling at Dr. Lewis. “This protein can boost the metabolism, fooling the body into thinking it's younger than it is, thus stimulating a complex cascade of chemical reactions. Those reactions generate energy.”

“Energy that becomes
a foot?”
a stupefied resident stuttered.

“Well, it's a bit more complicated than the brief explanation I've just given you,” Maggie said, smiling. “As I said, Dr. Lewis will explain it all in more detail. I hear he's got a fancy PowerPoint presentation and everything.” She winked at her colleague, teasing him good-naturedly.

“How many people have re-grown limbs so far?” another resident asked.

Maggie looked at Dr. Lewis as the two of them counted in their heads.

“Six feet, nine hands, numerous individual fingers and toes, fourteen ears, eleven noses,” Dr. Lewis said, looking at Maggie. “Did I miss anything?”

She shook her head. “Sounds good to me, or close enough. Now, some of those limbs were on the same person. We never work on more
than one limb at a time, per person, in case the individual has an adverse reaction to something. But, once we see they had success with one foot, if they'd lost both, we would then begin working on the second limb.”